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Chapter Text

1 ABY

Moenia

After spending the last couple of months in the Auril Sector, Naboo was probably one of the last places that Dragonspiral Squadron expected to be. Even if it wasn’t the glorious capitol of Theed, and even if it was built in a swamp and covered in thick fog, Moenia was still a beautiful city. Chessa’s head spun as she walked down the ramp of their shuttle and into Moenia Spaceport.

“Are we sure it’s safe to be here? I mean, this the Emperor’s homeworld! And Intel says that Admiral Grot’s in orbit on top of Grand Admiral Declann overseeing that new anti-starfighter ship!”

That was the reason they had been temporarily reassigned to Naboo, word of Declann and his prototype frigate, designed to be a better snubfighter killer. Before his ascent to Grand Admiral, Declann had been a skilled pilot in the Imperial Starfighter Corps and so had been the natural choice to oversee this project. Dragonspiral Squadron, in tandem with the local Rebellion starfighter cell, Revenant Squadron, were tasked with destroying the ship if possible.

Still, there was some time to kill before the mission could get underway.

Arra Sugi simply waved her friend off. “Relax, Chess, the Imps think Moenia is just some worthless little backwater of a city, they never keep a presence here!”

“Backwater is right, they built their city in the middle of a bloody swamp,” Beedle Inoso muttered, rolling his huge, red eyes.

“Even so, the Naboo have made a very striking city. The mist gives it an ethereal quality,” Nat said, reaching a hand into the mist and swirling it around.

Beedle snorted. “Look who’s become an architecture expert all of a sudden.”

Arra lightly shoved the Carthasian. “Play nice, please.”

Chessa abruptly stopped as she stepped out of the spaceport and into the city proper. She blinked her eyes in surprise, unsure of what she was seeing. “Um, does Moenia always look like this?”

The pilots paused to look out over Moenia, immediately seeing exactly what had caught Chessa’s eye. All kinds of strange decorations littered the streets, from cast-plast krayt dragon skeletons to vegetables with scary faces carved into them. Hung up between the buildings were black banners with orange text.

“Galactic Moon Festival?” Chessa asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s that?”

Arra looked at her and shrugged, just as lost as her friend. “Beats me, I’ve never heard of it. Is it something in Tapani space, Beedle?”

“This is new to me too.” His big red eyes scanned the streets, enthralled by the festival.

Chessa waved down a passing local. “Hey, what’s this Galactic Moon stuff going on? Is it a holiday or something?”

The Gungan snorted his bill and rolled his eyestalks. “Isa some Hutt holiday desa trying to introduce here. Borvo, the local Hutt isa sponsoring it at the request of Jabba the Hutt. Yousa supposed to dress up and spake something, then yousa get gifts.” He looked around and pointed to a gaunt looking, well dressed Twi’lek. “Spake to them-sa.”

“Thank you,” Chessa called out to the Gungan as he walked off, before walking towards the pale Twi’lek, the others close behind her. “Excuse me!”

Chessa jumped as the man turned towards them and she got a good look at his face. His eyes were sunken and glowing yellow, his teeth were sharpened to vicious points and his skin clung to his face so much that it was like his skull was exposed. He grinned, showing off his fangs and he held his arms outstretched.

“Welcome to the Galactic Moon Festival! What can I do for you, friends? A costume perhaps? Or some trinkets courtesy of the benevolent Jabba the Hutt?”

“Costumes?” Arra asked, a gleam in her eyes.

“Actually, we were hoping you could tell us what this festival’s about? We’re new to Moenia,” Beedle broke in.

“Well then you’ve arrived just in time! The Galactic Moon Festival is a brand new celebration, created by my master, the glorious Jabba! You see, he grew tired of holidays that commemorate concepts such as “love” and “life”, he wanted to create something scary! Once the idea was set, he sent organisers such as me, Z’ozpheratu, to Naboo and Tatooine to set it up!”

Arra pushed past Beedle before he could open his beak again. “You said something about costumes?”

Somehow, Z’ozpheratu’s eyes seemed to glow brighter. “But of course! A scary holiday calls for scary costumes! You dress up as the scariest beasts you can, go up to people and screech “Trick or treat”! If they like your costume enough, they give out special Galactic Moon Coins I’ve distributed and you can redeem them for prizes!” He held up an octagonal coin with Jabba’s face printed on both sides.

“Prizes?” Chessa asked, her curiosity piqued. She could pick up a nice souvenir for her sister, Dawn.

“Be sure to come up with something suitable if you want to see what I’m offering,” Z’ozpheratu said with a smirk.

***

Stepping back from the mirror, Chessa looked over her costume in satisfaction. She had painted a skull and bones onto her face and hands. A store in town even had a black leotard with a skeleton print on it to complete the look. As soon as she bought it, she’d rushed back to the Moenia Hotel to get to work on painting her face. It had been a tedious process, but she was finally done.

“Let’s see Arra top this,” she whispered to herself as she stepped out of her room and strode over to Arra’s. Just as she reached up to knock on the door, it slid open to reveal Arra wearing a metal bikini that did very little to cover her figure.

“Ta-da!” Arra exclaimed as she posed, placing her hands on her hips.

“Uh, you remember the costumes were supposed to be scary and not sexy, right?” Chessa asked, one brow quirked in bemusement.

“Hey, you wanted to get your hands on those Moon Coins, right? Well I guarantee you that when people see me in this, they won’t be able to hand ‘em over fast enough!”

“Maybe to get you away from them, sure.” Chessa smirked, loving Arra’s faux-offended look. “How’s Nat looking, you were helping him out, weren’t you?”

“I was! I painted Nat to look like a Sith O’ Lantern!” Arra flourished her hands as she stepped aside to proudly show off her handiwork. Chessa peered past her to get a good look at the Shard.

True to her word, she had indeed painted Nat. Fortunately for Arra, Nat was already orange anyway, so she had only needed to work on his face. A grinning, toothy maw filled up most of his face, and two black triangular eyes rested high on his forehead, above his photoreceptors. “TRICK OR TREAT” was embossed across his chest plate in jagged font.

Chessa tried to supress a snigger. “That’s…very creative, Arra. I see you put a lot of work into it.”

Arra pouted. “Look, short of just sticking a sheet over him and calling him a ghost, there’s only so much I can do!”

“I like it, Arra,” Nat chimed in, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Nat! At least someone appreciates it!” She poked her tongue out at Chessa, who returned the gesture.

“Okay, where’s Beedle? I’m dying to see what he came up with!” Chessa said, looking around for her roommate.

Chessa heard the Carthasian clear his voice from behind her, and she turned. She couldn’t hold back her giggle fit as she saw Beedle standing there, a sheet with holes cut out draped over his lanky body. It didn’t even cover all of him, his bony, long-fingered hands stuck out noticeably.

“Boo,” he said flatly as he soundlessly jangled the plast-cast chains he held.

Chessa turned to her wing mates. “I take it back, Arra, you really did great with Nat’s costume!”

“You’re impressed, I can tell,” Beedle said, his tone dry as Chessa and Arra tried to stifle their laughter.

“Very festive, Beedle. Trick or treat?” Nat asked as he held out a sack.

The sheet-clad Carthasian scoffed. “I don’t have any coins, Nat, we’re supposed to go out and pester the locals for those!”

“Better get started while the night’s still young then! I wanna get enough coins to buy stuff for the whole squadron!” Chessa grinned and rubbed her hands in anticipation.

They had taken no more than five steps when their com-links began to beep.

“Fishermen, the faa are snapping and ready to go. Happy catching,” Commander Ulrand’s voice crackled through.

The code phrase that meant it was time to get to their starfighters, Chessa groaned. “Seriously? We were just about to go out! I thought we had at least until tomorrow!”

“I don’t even have time to change,” Arra said as she looked down at her bikini. “The rest of the squadron’s going to get an eyeful before I get into my flight suit.”

“And I’m going into combat with my face looking like a skull,” Chessa muttered, picturing the annoyed look on Commander Ulrand’s face and wincing.

***

Imperial-class Star Destroyer, Recondite

Grand Admiral Nial Declann stood in the hangar bay of his flagship, peering over the edge down at the prototype Lancer-class frigate that hung in space beneath him. He clasped his black glove clad hands tightly behind his back and he leaned out to see. Outwardly, the ship closely resembled the standard Lancer-class, most of the real changes were internal.

“Improved engines, a higher top speed and manoeuvrability, advanced combat software. Yes, you’ll be quite the beauty when you’re ready,” Declann murmured to himself, before giggling in excitement as he reached around and gripped his black cape.

Zaarin and Batch both had their own little ship pet projects, why not him? After all, out of all the Grand Admirals, he was the only one who had actually been a starfighter pilot before his ascension. Who better qualified to help create and test out the next generation of Imperial ships designed to kill starfighters? It was a joint project between him and Admiral Ilon Drez, the man who had pioneered the original push for the Lancer-class as an anti-starfighter ship. Now he and Declann were refining the design.

A dark thought crossed Declann’s mind, What if it didn’t work? What if was a miserable failure, a disappointment to the Emperor? Declann scowled and bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to dispel the idea.

“It will work, it will succeed!” Declann hissed as he clenched his hands into fists. “How could I fail? I know more about the workings of starfighters than any of those fools, why should I fail?”

Well, the ship was just about ready for its first combat test, he would prove its worth soon enough. And he would be the one in a starfighter seeing how the new and improved Lancer would perform.

“I can see it now, the Emperor will congratulate me, and the Inquisitorius and the Prophets of the Dark Side will all be made to kneel before me.” Declann’s grin was back as he pictured it. He was so swept up in his fantasy, he couldn’t even tell if it was a true vision or just imagined.

***

The combined forces of Dragonspiral Squadron, Blade Squadron, Scarlet Squadron, Revenant Squadron and Colo Squadron hung in space, situated behind Naboo’s unnamed third moon. In truth it was little more than an asteroid that had been captured by the planet’s gravity well. Still, despite its dullness, it made for good cover. In contrast to the X-wings of the other squadrons, Revenant Squadron were piloting N-1T Advanced Starfighters, the descendants of the N-1 starfighters used in the decade prior to the Clone Wars.

Colo Squadron on the other hand, was the bomber unit of the group, flying NB-1T Royal Bombers. They were in the same family as the N-1 starfighters, bearing the same yellow paintjob and chromium finish on the forward section. What set it apart were the dual cockpits, one positioned atop the other, one for the pilot and the other for the bombardier. Along with the Y-wings of Scarlet Squadron, they would be the ones concentrating fire on the Lancer.

“Revenant Leader, standing by,” Rhys Dallows, the commander of the Naboo starfighter resistance reported in. One by one, the other pilots called in, they were all ready. “Follow our lead on this one, Dragonspiral and Blade, Revenant will take point and draw their fire.”

True to his word, he and his fighters jetted ahead, the other pilots following in his wake. In a matter of minutes, they could see their target ahead of them, the new frigate, and zipping around it, expertly dodging turbolaser fire was an unusual looking TIE.

“Never seen an eyeball that looks like that before,” Commander Devon Kishanti of Blade Squadron said.

Neither had Chessa for that matter, the wings had a smooth curve to them, instead of the octagonal shape of the standard TIE, and it was visibly smaller. The curvature of the wings wasn’t the only oddity to them, the exterior was armour plated, with the solar panels being on the inside.

“New model or not, it’s gonna go down easier than the Lancer,” Ulrand replied as he locked his ship’s S-foils into attack position.

“Two flight, take care of that fighter, we’ll draw the fire of the frigate!” Dallows commanded.

“Aye, Commander!” Pix Bet’te, an Amaran pilot in Revenant Squadron said as she and three of her wingmates peeled off from the main squadron.

At almost the same time, the TIE veered away from the frigate and made a beeline towards the Rebel fighters. It jinked and weaved effortlessly through the hail of laserfire they pumped out.

“Fast sucker!” One of the pilots snarled as he tried to get in closer.

To everyone’s surprise, a missile was suddenly launched from the TIE, slamming into the cockpit of the N-1T and blowing away most of the front section instantly.

“Break off, that thing’s more heavily armed than we thought!” Pix exclaimed as she and her remaining wingmates tried to put some distance between themselves and the enemy ship.

“He’s on my six!” One of the others cried out as she desperately tried to shake him.

The TIE was having none of it, sticking closely behind her, spewing green laserfire from its chin mounted cannons. The pilot seemed to know every move the pilot would make before she made it, always moving quickly to stay on her back.

It’s like he can predict her moves in advance, Chessa thought, a cold chill running down her spine.

“I can’t’-!” Were the last words the pilot got out before her ship was blown away by the enemy ship. Chessa let out a gasp as her astromech’s blackened dome whizzed past her cockpit.

“Stang! He’s creaming us!” Pix’s last remaining wingmate said as he and the Amaran circled around.

“Revenant Leader, do wesa go in to hep them?” One of the other Revenant’s, asked.

“Negative! Focus on the frigate, we need to take this thing down!” Dallows snapped as he looped around the Lancer’s cockpit, laser fire just barely missing his exhaust port.

The two bomber squadrons were laying down heavy fire, launching proton bomb after proton bomb into the larger ship. The heavier shields seemed to be doing a good job at protecting it, however, and it was showing little damage, despite the withering fire.

Chessa struggled to keep her focus on dodging the fire of the frigate, her eyes kept trying to slide to the TIE. She knew that even a momentary distraction could prove fatal, the Lancer was laying on a heavy barrage itself, and she saw one of Scarlet Squadron’s bombers take a blast to the port engine, taking the Y-wing out in an explosive fireball. Seconds later, one of the remaining N-1T starfighters was similarly blown away.

Thumbing the trigger on her control yoke, Chessa fired a proton torpedo of her own. The projectile streaked out, and for a moment, Chessa didn’t hold out any hope it would do anything. To her surprise, the torpedo didn’t simply explode harmlessly against the shields, instead it tore a chunk out of the ship’s starboard size.

“Shields are down!” Chessa reported, barrel rolling wide to avoid a retaliatory turbolaser bolt. As she did, she saw that the TIE was racing towards her and the other starfighters, evidently it had dealt with the attackers.

The bombers swarmed in at once, like firaxa drawn to blood in the water. Streaks of blue filled the space between the bombers and the frigate as they fired their payloads.

“Inco-!” One of the Colo Squadron pilots attempted to cry out, before a missile slammed into his cockpit. The fireball blew the front of the bombardier cockpit outward, expelling the bomber’s charred body.

“Kriff!” Chessa swore to herself as she took a hard turn around. That TIE pilot was skilled, he reminded her of Uster. And yet, there was something about him, a strange, prickly feeling she was getting in the back of her neck.

“Concentrate fire on the TIE!” Dallows commanded, and a number of starfighters broke off from the Lancer to attack the Imperial.

A second NB-1T was reduced to slag under a hail of laserfire, its shields being shredded. Chessa saw the pilot eject, only to be cut down mere seconds afterwards, the Rebel sheared in half. Sweat ran down Chessa’s face, smearing her paint. She fired a few shots herself, only for the TIE to bank to the side, the laserfire hurling well clear of their target. She yanked on the control yoke hard and pulled her fighter into a steep climb when the TIE returned fire. Another ship, Chessa didn’t see which, was hit instead, the wreckage careening into the void.

“I’m on his tail!” Ulrand said, as he and a Revenant pilot lined themselves up behind the TIE.

The TIE was so fluid in its movement, to Chessa it almost seemed to dance between their fire, weaving through the lasers with minimal difficulty. Two proton torpedos streaked towards it, only for the TIE to twirl between them gracefully. The pilot suddenly cut his engines and flipped his ship around, letting the momentum carry him forward as he got Ulrand and the other pilot in his sights. The Commander rolled hard to starboard, his wing clipped but otherwise unharmed. The Revenant pilot was less lucky, the fire penetrated his heat sink. The poor pilot screamed as his engine overloaded and he was cooked alive. His cockpit burst outward, the fire quickly extinguished in the airless vacuum of space.

“He’s slaughtering us!” One of the surviving Revenant’s exclaimed over the comms.

“Colo, Scarlet, what’s the status of the frigate?” Dallows snarled.

“She’s taken heavy damage, Commander! She won’t hold much longer!” Colo Leader reported, finishing her sentence by firing another salvo of proton bombs.

As if on cue, a number of explosions rocked the Lancer, gouts of fire and smoke were spewing out of holes the bombers had filled it with.

“It’s dead! All fighters, break off! We’ve done what we came here to do, shake off the fighter and get home!” Dallows ordered.

It was an order Chessa was all too happy to follow, she didn’t want to tangle with that pilot at all. Not after all of her fellows he had killed.

***

“I wonder why the pilot didn’t call in reinforcements? There would have been plenty of ships who could have been there in under a minute,” Arra asked, chewing her lower-lip in thought.

“Pride,” Chessa said. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but somehow she was sure that was the correct reason. “Pride and overconfidence in himself.”

Beedle shrugged. “That’s as good a reason as any, I suppose. And I have to hand it to that Imp, he wasn’t exactly lacking in skills.”

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a rapid series of knocks on the door. Arra and Chessa exchanged confused looks, they weren’t expecting anyone. Chessa crossed the room and looked through the peephole, only to see the empty hallway. Narrowing her eyes, she placed a hand on her holstered blaster and carefully opened the door. Her instincts were alerting her to any danger, and she couldn’t see anyone in the corridor. She looked down, and saw a thick package resting just in front of the door.

“Uh, we have mail?” Chessa said as she picked up the parcel, surprised by how heavy it was. Struggling slightly, she carried it back into the room and dumped it on her bed. Tearing through it, Chessa gasped as a flood of Galactic Moon Coins came pouring out. There was probably hundreds of them stuffed into that bag, enough for a horde of souvenirs.

“That stupid gimmick money for the Festival?” Beedle asked, scratching his scaly forehead.

“Chessa, there’s a note in there,” Nat said, pointing to a folded piece of flimsi.

Chessa picked it up and squinted, it looked like it was written in Huttese. In thanks for protecting my interests on Naboo-Borvo the Hutt, the note read.

“He couldn’t have given us actual credits?” Arra asked, one eyebrow raised in incredulity. “Or at least some weapons to bring back with us?”

Beedle snorted. “Cheap Hutt barve.” He shook his head.

A grin slowly crept onto Chessa’s face. “Well, if you guys don’t want your share, I’d be happy to take them off your hands.”

Arra sighed. “Sure, go ahead, Chess.”

“It’s fine with me, Chessa,” Nat said as he handed her a handful of coins.

Beedle just waved her off.

“Thanks, guys! I’ll get you some souvenirs from Z’ozpheratu!” She exclaimed as she rushed out the door. She’d be sure to pick out something real nice for Dawn.

Chapter Text

The four of them walked to the rendezvous point, feeling distinctly conspicuous in their costumes. It had been easy enough for Beedle to make himself look presentable, all he had to do was ditch the sheet and chains he was carrying. For the rest of them, however, there was no such luck, they had no time to scrape off their face paint or change, they would have to get straight into their flightsuits.

Chessa felt her face turn bright red as the mechanics turned to face her, although at least her painted cheeks covered up the blush. Of course, it wasn’t her they were staring at, for the most part. Arra, in all her half-naked glory had the mechanics do double takes as she walked by some of them were slack jawed and openly staring. Chessa couldn’t really blame them, she doubted they had ever seen a Themian in a metal bikini stroll through their hangar before. Arra didn’t seem to be too bothered by it, and Chessa wondered if she was hiding her embarrassment, or she truly didn’t care about all the eyes on her. Well, she always was the brave one, Chessa thought, somewhat impressed by how her friend kept such a cool head.

A part of her was glad that the support staff were all strangers, people she was unlikely to ever see again. If Neelo and his crew were the ones to see her like this, she would never hear the end of it, she was sure. He probably would have hurried to record the four of them walking through the hangar with an astromech droid too, to truly make sure the moment would never be forgotten.

There was a sudden, loud clanging and Chessa turned to see that one unfortunate Gungan had walked into a wall while carrying an armful of pipes, scattering them all over the floor. Even after his little accident, Chessa saw that he was still gawping at Arra, his tongue hanging out. Arra glanced back over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

“Good thing you don’t walk around like this all the time,” Chessa whispered to her, and Arra chuckled.

“I don’t see why everyone would make such a big fuss over us,” Nat said, his head swivelling around in all directions. “Is it really that big of a deal?”

“Oh, for once you’re not the one they’re staring at,” Beedle said, his tone playful.

Chessa elbowed him lightly in the side. It was true, usually Nat was the one who got all the stares, people mistook him for a droid and found it strange that one would be a pilot. But compared to Arra, he was now only the second most interesting sight.

Finally, they reached the briefing room, where all their fellow pilots were already seated. Commander Ulrand turned to acknowledge their presence, turned back and then whirled around again, his eyes wide in a mixture of shock and anger.

Uh-oh, Chessa winced, hoping that he wouldn’t chew them out before a mission.

The other members of the squadron did their best to hide their own surprise and amusement, not wanting to attract the ire of Commander Ulrand. They covered their mouths and looked away, doing their best not to make it obvious. The local pilots on the other hand, seemed stunned, and Chessa felt her stomach drop. Great, now they’re going to think we’re a bunch of clowns, Chessa thought, mortified. She wished she could bury her head in her hands, but that would just annoy Ulrand more.

“Would you three care to explain why you look like that?” The Commander asked, his eyes flicking back and forth between Chessa, Arra and Nat. Mostly to Arra, she noticed.

Arra, for her part, was doing her best to keep her calm, but Chessa noticed a subtle frown at the edges of her lips. Looking closer, she saw a bead of sweat trickle down her brow too. The interested stares of the ground crew might have been one thing, but the irate glare of their commander was another thing entirely.

“It was my fault, sir!” Chessa blurted out. “I heard about this local festival that was going on, and I suggested we take part! The costumes were my idea too, I wanted to celebrate it fully!”

“But I chose my outfit myself! Flight Officer Oto didn't force me into it!" Arra hurriedly added, trying to cover for her friend.

“…We were hoping to have fun,” Nat chimed in, hunching over and trying to look small. A very unusual look for a hulking assassin droid.

“Sir, we weren’t expecting to be activated so soon, we really did think we’d have the night to ourselves,” Arra said,

Ulrand sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked away for a moment, his eyes pinched tightly shut and the three of them sat there in dead silence, not making a peep. When he finally turned back to them, there was a looked of annoyed resignation in his eyes.

“Alright then. We’ll discuss this later, but right now, we have more pressing matters at hand…”

Chessa let out a breath in relief. This would be a problem for Future Chessa and she thought that Commander Ulrand would probably go easy on them, with any luck.

Beside her, Arra gently elbowed Chessa, who turned to look at her friend. “Betcha my costume won him over!” She whispered, a sly grin on her face.